


Fate and Discord

by Jean_G



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Powerful Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_G/pseuds/Jean_G
Summary: Geralt just snapped at Jaskier on the mountain. After greeting the dragons, Jaskier no longer has any excuse to postpone his work: He has some family business that he must now take care of.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 155





	Fate and Discord

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Le sort et la discorde](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634909) by [Jean_G](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_G/pseuds/Jean_G). 



> Hey, this is my first fic on this fandom and I'm not yet very familiar with the whole world of the witcher. So I replaced some places (the tower) or orders (the ancestors) to be sure not to make too much mistakes. I hope you will like it.
> 
> PS: My first tongue isn't english so it may not alway make sense. if you have any correction to make, please do it in the comment or on discord: Jean-G#3825

The wizards were terrified. They had heard of this man, this bard. He had first made speak of himself in Caroline, where he had stripped of his powers one of the elders of the high council. Then he had suppressed the supposedly immortal creatures of hatred and silenced the vultures of fate. Wherever he went, Chaos left the lands. His ambitions and method were unclear, but he amassed great power.

That day as he approached the council tower, it was the space closest to Chaos that he threatened. This place was the nucleus of the power of many beings. To destroy it was to dispossess the continent of one of its main sources of Chaos energy. The wizards were shaking from head to toe. That evening was held the conservation ceremony: a large jar was going to be filled with all the energy produced by the tower. The presence of this man in front of the tower on the day of this decennial event was no coincidence.

The wizards guards cast their spells on the bard when he was only ten yards from the tower. A great detonation followed, leaving only dust behind. No more road, no body. The bard was gone. Then slowly, like a mantra that you whisper to yourself, a song sounds. Reasoning in the stone corridors, ricocheting off each wall, increasing with each new corridor. What was just a whisper had become a disembodied voice, singing a nursery rhyme. Then hell broke loose. One of the wizards had fired, followed by all his fellows. Spells were fired, without targets. With cries and thunderclaps, fear and song rose. The first voice was mixed with a choir. Hoarse, whistling or even squeaky voices. All increasing to cover the rumble of panic that had taken place.

When the ways reached the altar room, they fell silent. In their place, the bard. The elders who were going to perform the sacred ritual found themselves petrified. They could not produce a spell next to the altar at the risk that it would absorb them. When the bard approached the altar, it began to pulse, it was a beating heart. The bard did not pay attention to it and put his two hands on his polished marble, chanting in a low voice. The veins of the stone began to shine, transmitting the energy from the altar to the bard under the horrified gaze of the wizards.

Then suddenly a blast, a flash of light, and the bard withdrew his hands from the stone as if it had burned it. But too late, he had finished chanting. As the energy was transmitted to the bard in a low hum, a new voice was heard. It was clear and deep, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

It was the first time they had heard it and yet a primary feeling was born in the guts of the ancients. They all fell on their knees and bowed before the Chao's speech in person. "Who dares to take rights over my being ?"

The bard began to circle around the altar, contemplating the translucent, vaguely humanoid shape that seemed to want to form on the altar.

"Hello mother."

The form quickly turned its head in the direction of the bard as if to examine him despite its lack of facial features.  
"I am surprised to see you here, you have always been the most reasonable, it's not like you to seek power.

I would even say it doesn't suit you. "

The bard continued to walk around it, seeming to contemplate his options. The form had gained in opacity, covering itself with a milky white recalling the color of the chalk, on his head was long soggy hair and translucent wicks stuck to its face and neck.  
As the bard did not seem to want to speak, Chaos resumed:

"I was rather expecting to see your sister and one of her morbid plans arrive, or your brother with a crazy new idea for which he would have needed me."

At these words the bard's face crumpled, it didn't last more than a few seconds before he found his marble mask again. When the answer came, his voice was tight, controlled.

"My brother wouldn't be able come." It was the turn of Chaos' face to crumple.

The bard continued before she could question him. "I came because I need you. To stop father."

The bard's eyes finally settled on his mother, sitting on an altar, alone, soggy, distraught, ignorant of the events of the past seven thousand years. For a brief moment their eyes met. The bard looked away. Chaos spoke. "You are dead."

The bard raised his chin as if he had plunged into the water up to his chest and that the cold had taken hold of his guts, cutting his breathing. He ignored the Chaos remark and pursued. "Your departure made him crazy mother, he-

\- WHEN DID YOU DIE? "

The bard swallowed noisily, made a short pose in his circular walk, looked at his wrist as if trying to read the time and started walking again. "About six thousand seven hundred years ago."

Chaos was silent, her eyes had had time to form and they were now sweating two large torrents of tears which dripped down her chin, fell on her dress before sinking to the ground, forming a large bottomless puddle. The bard's footsteps became splashes, but they didn't slow down. Chaos' hands came to cover her mouth and long sobs began to tear her throat. "I didn't even felt you die!"

The bard gave his mother a serious look before crossing his arms behind his back. "I didn't came for this, mother."

Chaos did her best to slow the steady flow of tears. She straightened up, put her shoulders back in a more noble posture and moved her hands away from her face. In a trembling but clear voice and without stuttering she questioned him. "Why then? What have he done to make you so upset?"

The bard now had tears up to his ankles. The bottom of his pants were as soggy as his mother's dress. It didn't seem to bother him. "He wants to live."

Chaos looked surprised, her brows frowning over her fluorescent eyes. The response was stronger than the previous ones. "He can't, he's already dead."

No start or surprise, the bard wasn't learning anything. No movement of the head or even a look, he waited for his mother to calm down, carefully choosing his words among all the emotional responses that came to his mind. "If he cannot live his own life, he can always live other's..."

The tears finally stopped as Chaos concentrated on understanding what was said to her. Whose life was he taking? "Who ?"

The answer took a few seconds to come, the words were hot under the barely restrained emotions of the bard. "My brother."

Chaos heard anger there, but also bitterness, regret and sadness. During her lifetime, she would have lectured him about self-control, but in her state she was not even in control herself.

"What do you plan to do?"

Her son was a warrior at the height of his family, he was her blood and hier flesh. He knew how to fight a battle as well as a war. He knew the place of everything and could stop himself before his actions did more harm than good. She would let him handle the situation.

"I will force him to hear reason or I'll have to force him out of my brother's body."

Chaos bowed, disappearing from the altar in a final splash. The low hum goes out. The bard had finished absorbing the energy of the conservation ceremony. The wizards were no longer frozen, but after what they had seen none of them dared to move an eyelash.

The bard unnecessarily tried to wring the bottom of his pants before giving up, seeing that the fabric immediately soaked again when he put his foot on the floor.

One of the wizards guards opened the door of the room wide, ready to cast a spell on the intruder when the latter evaporated, leaving behind him a tower half destroyed by the spells of its protectors and panicked wizards not knowing what to do and running unnecessarily all over the place.

Spreading discord was something he got from his mother.


End file.
